


a rare gift

by cornflower_blues



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Choking, Dark Will Graham, Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, First Time, Hannibal (TV) Season/Series 02, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sub Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, Under-negotiated Kink, Virgin Will Graham, kind of anyway, well he's not technically a virgin but he's never been with a man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26233693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cornflower_blues/pseuds/cornflower_blues
Summary: “Now,” Hannibal says, putting down his fork and knife, “What shall we do after dinner? I thought perhaps you’d like to make love to me.”
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 175





	a rare gift

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for internalized homophobia and some cissexism. Heed the tags,

_we gladiate, but I guess we’re really fighting ourselves /  
roughing up our minds so we’re ready when the kill time comes /  
wide awake in bed, words in my brain: /  
“secretly you love this. do you even want to go free?”_  
-Glory and Gore, Lorde

  


On the night that Will brings over the meat that is supposedly from Freddie Lounds’ thigh, dinner is peaceful.

“Now,” Hannibal says, putting down his fork and knife, “What shall we do after dinner? I thought perhaps you’d like to make love to me.”

“I was going to — what?” Will says, suddenly hearing what Hannibal has just said.

It feels like he’s having another seizure, neurons in his brain firing wildly, heart beating hard in his chest and his breaths coming too fast. His empty wine glass falls to the floor with a clink, shatters.

Neither man looks down at the shards.

“I said,” Hannibal says, slower, enunciating fully, “that I’d very much like for you to make love to me.”

Hannibal is staring at him, the eye contact sudden and burning.

“Oh,” Will says, swallowing. “Isn’t this a little sudden?”

“Have I miscalculated?” Hannibal asks, frowning. “I was so sure.”

“No, no,” Will says, before he can stop himself. “It’s just that we haven’t even kissed yet. We’re stronger together, but we – we can’t know if we have the chemistry to take this to a physical level.”

He hopes that Hannibal can’t see through him, can’t see that Will is just trying to maintain his cover. Will tries to ignore the part of himself that whispers that maybe it’s not just about trying to maintain cover. Maybe he wants this.

It’s just that he’s never been with a man before, never even been attracted to a man before. It’s one thing to understand that Hannibal fits inside his heart like a nesting doll; it’s another to think about the realities of having sex with another man.

“We can remedy that easily enough,” Hannibal says, pushing his chair back with the grating sound of metal.

For a minute Will doesn’t understand what Hannibal means.

Then Hannibal is close, closer than close, steadily encroaching in on Will’s personal space. His lips are plush and parted slightly, and Will leans in before he knows that he’s supposed to lean in. Hannibal hums in approval as their lips meet, softly, gently. Will feels the tension slowly leaving his body; this isn’t so bad, after all.

“Good?” Hannibal murmurs against his lips.

Will draws back, enough to look into Hannibal’s twinkling eyes.

“Excellent,” Will says, and he comes back in for more.

The touch of Hannibal’s tongue is a shock that goes straight to his groin. Will opens his mouth for him easily, immediately, tasting bitter red wine on Hannibal’s lips. Hannibal’s tongue slides slowly into Will’s mouth and his hands grasp at Will’s shoulders, pushing him back into the wall.

Will should be afraid. Some distant part of his brain sends out an alarm, but Will’s too otherwise occupied to pay attention, because what Hannibal is doing with his tongue feels _amazing_.

Will’s trousers have become uncomfortably tight, and with a sense of something that’s a lot like euphoria, he realizes that Hannibal’s cock is hardening, too. He can _feel_ it. He can feel Hannibal’s hard cock against his thigh, and the thought is so exciting that he ruts his hips forward without thinking about it.

Swiftly, Hannibal pulls back, disentangles himself from Will.

“Now, now,” Hannibal says, “There’s no need for frottage. We’re not two over-excited teenagers, too desperate for release to truly enjoy each other. I do have a bedroom.”

“Yes,” Will breathes, then explains, “Yes, I want to go with you. But I’ve never — not with a man.”

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” Hannibal says. “One day I’ll show you all the pleasures of your prostate. But that day is not today.”

Hannibal pulls back, then clasps Will’s hand in his, leads Will to the bedroom. Will puzzles over the feeling of Hannibal’s warm hand in his until Hannibal lets go, lays back on the bed with his legs spread and a smirk on his face like he knows exactly how enticing he looks to Will.

Will is on him in a heartbeat, sucking a bruise onto his neck, hard, scraping Hannibal’s skin with his teeth.

“Will,” Hannibal groans, and then his lips are on Will’s again.

Will runs his hands down Hannibal’s sides, finds the edge of his shirt and ruts it up so he can feel the hard abs underneath.

“Shouldn’t we have fewer clothes on if I’m going to make love to you?” Will asks when he comes up for air, hands still playing at Hannibal’s abs.

“Oh, do undress,” Hannibal says, leaning up on his elbows. “I’ve fantasized about seeing this often enough. We’ll have to see if you live up to my fantasies.”

“You really think I wouldn’t?” Will asks, moving to straddle Hannibal’s hips as he lifts his own shirt over his head.

“Of course not. You’re magnificent,” Hannibal says matter-of-factly.

Will throws his shirt into the corner of the room, then moves off Hannibal and onto the floor so he can unzip his trousers and add them to the pile. He’s suddenly very glad he decided not to wear a wire today, like Jack suggested he do; there would be no way to hide that treason from Hannibal, not now.

He stops at his boxer-briefs, self-conscious, but finds Hannibal staring at the bulge in them, his pupils blown dark and wide.

Will, he’s never really considered himself attractive before. He’s always thought he was average-looking, at best. But he sees himself in Hannibal’s eyes then, abs sculpted like a Grecian statue, the bulge in his pants large enough to be impressive. He sees that, to Hannibal, this is the one of the hottest things he’s ever seen – no, it’s _the_ hottest thing he’s ever seen. Will’s mouth makes an o-shape of surprise at that realization.

So it’s with a surge of confidence that Will strips off his boxer briefs, frees his cock.

“Get on the bed,” Hannibal says, voice hoarse.

“You still have all your clothes on,” Will counters. “I need to see you.”

“You’ll see me,” Hannibal promises. “But there’s something I need to do first. On the bed, Will.”

Hannibal is sitting up in bed, back cushioned by two fluffy down pillows. Will sits down next to him, and then Hannibal is maneuvering himself to lie between Will’s spread legs, hands inching up Will’s thighs.

“Do you want this, Will? Do you want my mouth?” Hannibal asks, looking up at Will.

“Yes,” Will says, truthfully, meeting Hannibal’s gaze.

Will doesn’t say, _it feels like I’ve never wanted anything more._

Hannibal grips the bottom of Will’s cock with one hand and licks a stripe up it in one fluid motion. Will inhales sharply, barely having time to comprehend what’s happening as Hannibal licks around the head and then takes Will’s cock into his mouth.

Will’s brain stops, then, with Hannibal still meeting his gaze, cheeks hollowed as he takes in Will’s cock. It’s like Will’s blacking out, losing time again. Because this isn’t just anyone who’s sucking his cock. No, this is _Hannibal_ , who always keeps himself stoic and unreachable. Hannibal who started out as Will’s psychiatrist. Hannibal who, Will reminds himself, literally murders and consumes people for fun.

Remembering Hannibal’s fetish for cannibalism, Will briefly worries that Hannibal might bite off his cock, eat it raw. But Hannibal is all about the slide of gentle tongue, slick and smooth, not even a hint of teeth. He’s obviously done this before, and something akin to jealousy flashes into Will’s mind then, wondering if Hannibal is planning do this with anyone else.

Will realizes that, without ever making the conscious decision to thread his fingers through Hannibal’s hair, he’s been grabbing hold of it. He pulls, experimentally, and Hannibal moans around him, vibrations coursing through Will’s cock.

“Shit,” Will says, pulling tighter.

Hannibal pulls off him with a wet pop.

“I’d like you to use me for your pleasure, Will,” Hannibal says with a shudder.

Will stares.

“You mean — you want me to fuck your mouth,” Will clarifies.

“Yes, and believe me when I say that I’m not above begging,” Hannibal says with a tight smile.

“Yeah,” Will says, nodding, “Okay, yeah. Let’s do this.”

Hannibal takes Will in again, and Will squeezes his eyes shut, focusing only on the sensations of his cock sliding in and out of Hannibal’s warm, wet mouth.

Experimentally, Will thrusts his hips forward, breathing heavily. Hannibal moans again, louder this time, and takes it. So Will shifts his hips back again, then forward, keeps going, finds a rhythm.

The few times that Will has imagined having sex with Hannibal, it’s never been like this, with Hannibal gentle and pliant around him, letting Will fuck his face. He’s always imagined Hannibal authoritative, in control, teaching Will how to have sex with another man like a teacher instructing a student.

But Will knows that sometimes those people who have the most power in life need a way to be free from it in bed. Sometimes the most domineering people are also the most submissive. He just never expected this from Hannibal, of all people.

“Stop,” says Will, breath ragged, hips stilling. “I’m gonna — I’ll finish too soon if we keep this up.”

Hannibal swirls his tongue around the head of Will’s cock one last time, then comes off him.

“Very well,” Hannibal says, sweat sticking a few strands of hair to his brow.

“Do you, ah, want anything in return?” Will asks, eyeing the prominent bulge in Hannibal’s trousers and licking his lips.

He’s never given a blowjob before, but right now, feeling this good, Will admits to himself that he’d be up for it.

So it’s a bit of a disappointment when Hannibal shakes his head.

“I only want you inside me, Will,” Hannibal says. “There will be time for the rest of it later, believe me.”

So there will be a second time. This isn’t a fling for Hannibal — this is the beginning of his new life. _Their_ new life, Will corrects himself. Their new life together.

Hannibal works on undoing his tie while Will unzips Hannibal’s trousers, reaches inside them and feels the smooth silk of Hannibal’s boxers. Once he gets his hand inside them, he’s met with a girthy, long shaft and a head drowning in precum.

Will groans. He hadn’t expected it to be this hot to get his hand around another man’s cock. But this isn’t just another man, this is Hannibal, with the depth of his desire for Will finally out in the open. And Will wants to show Hannibal just how much he desires him, too.

He fists Hannibal’s cock and gives it an experimental tug, enjoying Hannibal’s ensuing gasp.

“Please, Will, let me undress first,” Hannibal says, sounding out of breath.

Will draws his hands out of Hannibal’s boxers, although he can’t resist popping two of his fingers into his mouth and sucking on the hot, salty precum.

“Do you like how I taste as much as I like how you smell?” Hannibal asks as he undresses.

“More,” Will says, and gets to work tugging off Hannibal’s blazer.

There’s a suspiciously knife-shaped bulge in an inside pocket of Hannibal’s blazer, and Will can’t help wondering why Hannibal would arm himself when he thinks he’s among friends, but he’s too eager to start unbuttoning Hannibal’s shirt to worry too much about it.

Once Hannibal is laid out on the bed nude, Will can’t resist an appreciative once-over or two. He crawls on top of Hannibal and takes his left nipple into his mouth, suckling gently and then harder.

“You feel exquisite, but I really must insist we get down to business,” Hannibal says. “You’ll find a bottle of lube in the drawer on my bedside table.”

Will finds the lube where Hannibal told him, nerves fluttering as he climbs back onto Hannibal. He’s never done this before, not even with a woman, but he knows to coat his finger thoroughly before reaching down underneath Hannibal’s sac until he finds his hole.

He pauses there, looking up at Hannibal to make sure this is okay, and finds Hannibal’s eyes blown wide still, full and dark. Hannibal nods, answering Will’s unspoken question. Will pushes in slowly, sinks his finger in to the knuckle, then fully. It feels simultaneously everything like being inside a woman and nothing like being inside a woman.

Hannibal is impossibly tight, and Will’s breathing quickens at the thought of what it’s going to feel like once his cock is inside, enveloped in the warm press of that enclosure. He moves his finger back and forth in the tight heat, his cock twitching in sympathy.

Hannibal is so tight that once Will lubes up a second finger, he struggles to fit it in alongside the first.

“You’ll need to use more lube, Will,” Hannibal pants. “It’s been a long time for me.”

“How long?” Will asks, suddenly needing to know.

“Sixteen years,” Hannibal says. “I rarely find someone I trust enough to let them do this to me. But I trust you, Will. I trust you very much.”

There’s a sinking feeling in Will’s stomach, knowing he’s going to betray Hannibal, but Will ignores it as he coats his fingers in more lube than he thinks is strictly necessary, then nudges them back inside Hannibal. They fit, this time, and Will tries to scissor them to open up Hannibal further but meets resistance. Gradually, after he keeps up the motion, he finds himself with a little more room to work with.

“Are you ready for more?” Will asks, voice sounding low and husky to his ears.

“I’ve never been more ready,” Hannibal says, so Will coats a third finger and slowly eases it in alongside the first two.

Hannibal’s cock lies stiff and engorged, leaking even harder now, precum sticking his cock to his stomach. Will wants to taste it again, wants to take Hannibal in to the throat, choke on him.

He fucks Hannibal with his fingers, harder this time, hardly daring to believe how good this feels when his cock isn’t even involved yet.

Will knows he’s hitting the right spot because Hannibal is breathing in shudders.

“Take me now, Will,” he says. “I’m ready.”

“Fuck,” Will says eloquently, realizing that this is it, that he’s really going to get to fuck Hannibal now.

He slides his fingers out gently, then lines up his cock, swallowing hard before pushing in slowly, never breaking Hannibal’s gaze.

“Oh, God, Hannibal,” Will moans when he’s fully seated.

“I thought you didn’t believe in God,” Hannibal says with a curt laugh.

“I do now,” Will says, not really meaning it, and he shifts his hips back, eyes locked on Hannibal’s.

Slowly, he rocks his hips forward. Hannibal gives a deep groan.

He feels smothered by Hannibal in the best way possible, like he’s swimming in a sea of him. Hannibal’s scent is all around him, all the deep musk of his cologne and the salt of his sweat and the spices from dinner that still cling to him: rosemary and thyme.

Will leans down a bit, or Hannibal tilts his head up, or maybe both, and they’re kissing again, a deep clash of tongues with a hint of teeth. Will bites down on Hannibal’s bottom lip hard as he thrusts inside him and is rewarded by another deep groan, by Hannibal pushing back against his cock, letting him in deeper.

He realizes, suddenly, how naked Hannibal is now, literally and metaphorically. He’s unprotected by his clothing, the knife that was in his pocket is lying useless in their pile of discarded clothing, and out of the two of them, Will imagines that he’s physically stronger.

He could do it. He could kill Hannibal, right now, with his cock seated deep inside him. Without really thinking about it, Will’s hands come up from where they’d been grasping Hannibal’s hips, hard enough to bruise, to settle around Hannibal’s neck.

“You always said you’d kill me with your hands,” Hannibal says.

He doesn’t sound afraid.

Will falters, then, hands around Hannibal’s throat. Hannibal hasn’t moved to stop him, is still pushing back against Will’s thrusts, hips shifted up into the air, taking everything Will gives him.

This is Hannibal’s bedroom, after all, Hannibal’s territory. There are probably any number of weapons hidden around the room, butcher knife under Hannibal’s pillow, pistol stuffed under the mattress.

“I’m not going to kill you, but I’m going to choke you, and you’ll like it,” Will says, before he’s even decided what he’s going to do.

Slowly, he increases the pressure around Hannibal’s neck. Hannibal shivers but doesn’t move except to writhe up against Will, sweat dripping down his temple. Will, feeling like he’s outside himself, he uses even more pressure, knuckles tense.

It feels like an out-of-body experience, like he’s floating above himself looking down at the scene, watching himself kill Hannibal, watching himself use more and more pressure until it’s over.

But the thing is, in his heart, Will doesn’t want Hannibal to die. In his heart, he wants to go away with Hannibal, he wants them to be together always, laughing around the dinner table like they did tonight. He wants Hannibal to live at least long enough for Will to taste his cum hitting the back of his throat, to feel Hannibal’s cock thrusting inside his ass.

He wants to kiss Hannibal again. So he does, still gripping Hannibal’s neck hard, feeling Hannibal’s tightness all around him. He sees stars, like he imagines Hannibal is seeing stars underneath him, longing for breath, maybe even losing consciousness – dimly he’s aware of himself coming, cum pumping and pumping out of his cock in a long, drawn-out orgasm –

Will’s still not entirely inhabiting his body, he’s still clenching his hands around Hannibal’s neck, and it takes what feels like a great amount of concentration to finally ease up on the pressure, to come back down into himself. Hannibal gasps.

“I thought you might not stop,” Hannibal confesses, voice raw.

“I was always going to stop,” Will says shakily.

He tries not to dwell on the fact that it’s true.

Hannibal is still hard and leaking underneath him, and Will grabs Hannibal’s cock, jerks him off hard and fast as his own cock starts to go limp inside Hannibal. Hannibal comes all over his hand with a strangled “Will,” voice letting loose more emotion than Will has ever heard him express before.

Will tries not to think about the fact that he promised Jack he would catch Hannibal, that he would turn Hannibal in. Will tries not to think about anything.

* * *

Days later, Will slides down onto the floor of Hannibal’s kitchen, bleeding profusely from his stomach, shaking.

“I let you know me,” Hannibal tells him, deep hurt in his eyes. “See me.”

Hannibal continues, “I gave you a rare gift. But you didn’t want it.”

Will thinks about his lips on Hannibal’s, his hand on Hannibal’s hard cock, the dance they made together that night as Will thrust into him.

He thinks about how much he, deep inside, wanted to run away with Hannibal. How much he still wants it. How, at the very least, he wanted Hannibal to escape, to be free. How Will was holding on to the hope that he’d see Hannibal again one day.

“Didn’t I?” Will asks.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering why this started off loving and then got dark, it's because I was having a bad day when I wrote that part!


End file.
